


Lead Me There

by tricksterquinn



Category: Pearl Harbor (2001)
Genre: F/M, Kid Fic, M/M, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-20
Updated: 2013-12-20
Packaged: 2018-01-05 06:24:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1090671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tricksterquinn/pseuds/tricksterquinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A war in four photographs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lead Me There

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sansets](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sansets/gifts).



> This story goes AU from the movie just after the attack on Pearl Harbor, before Rafe and Danny head to the Doolittle Raid. It is an attempt to clean up what I see as a bizarre choice to have fighter pilots reassigned to a bomber mission.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who helped in the making of this fic. I couldn't've possibly done it without you. Thanks especially to A, M, and E; you guys saved this from certain doom, and to TLvop, who was an excellent and encouraging beta.
> 
> And thank you to sansets, for giving me a perfectly-matched prompt. I couldn't've asked for a more perfect recipient for the story I had to tell. I hope you enjoy.

Jake's momma and daddy's wedding photo was in a silver frame. It sat on the sideboard in the dining room when company came over, and was put away the rest of the time. Momma said it was to keep it safe, but Jake had seen how her eyes would get sad, just like in the picture, and Daddy would get serious and Uncle Rafe would get scarce until Momma put it away again. He knew they'd gotten married in Hawaii at the start of the war, and a whole lot of people had just died, including their friends. He bet that had a lot more to do with why the picture sat in a drawer most of the time than worry about its safety did. After all, they kept other pictures out all the time, like the one of him when he was a baby and the one of him holding Ruthie when she was really little, and he knew to be real careful to keep them safe. No, he was sure the wedding picture stayed out of sight because it made everybody sad. It was too bad, though: even as sad as everybody looked in it, Daddy looked so handsome in his uniform and Momma looked so pretty with the ocean behind her, glamorous like in a movie.

Still, he'd rather his family be happy than a hundred pretty pictures of faraway places.

\---  
December 1941

Sandra smiled at Evelyn with forced cheer. "It's your wedding day. Let's make you as beautiful as possible, ok?"

Evelyn nodded back. "Of course. It's what--" She paused for barely a moment. "What Betty would have done."

It hurt to mention Betty, hurt terribly, but at least it was a good, clean pain, something she could talk about. There were so many things they were tiptoing around, now.

In the two weeks since the attack, none of them had slept much. Hawaii was dreadfully understaffed, especially given the dead and wounded, and everyone knew it would be months before they'd see real reinforcements. The nurses were pulling double shifts, which was actually something of a relief after the endless, sleepless days immediately after the attack. They were all so tired they fell straight into bed at the end of the day. It was nearly enough to keep Evelyn from waking up in the dark time before dawn, drenched in sweat. She felt half dead herself, walking in a daze. She'd taken to obsessively taking notes and triple-checking charts for fear she'd make a mistake out of sheer exhaustion.

She and Sandra had swapped shifts and promised favors to get the time off, late morning on the Saturday before Christmas, and now they were heading off-base and into the interior of the island. Danny's sergeant had found a local minister to perform the ceremony. Evelyn had no intention of letting the Navy get immediate word that she was very shortly to be a married woman; there was too much work to be done. She would be discharged soon enough; she wouldn't be able to hide much of anything for long.

She had told Rafe first. It had gone, if not well, much better than she had feared. He was upset, of course (and she thought perhaps 'upset' was a drastic understatement), but he accepted what she had said without further unpleasantness. She'd meant what she said to him: she would love him forever, but she had to do right by Danny and by the baby. It really was that simple.

Rafe had, in some ways, been the harder to tell. It was still hard even to look at him, let alone see the way he held himself around her. Danny, she had at least been able to predict.

"Pregnant?" he had asked blankly.

"Yes, Danny." She pressed her lips together firmly, decisively not thinking about Rafe's face.

He had asked her to marry him, of course, and she had said yes, of course. And that was that.

Now they rattled up a dirt road in Danny's car, her and Sandra and Danny and Rafe, and she stared straight ahead and clutched Sandra's hand and tried not to think and especially not to look at Rafe. She couldn't quite shake the sense that all of this was wrong, that none of this was how this was supposed to go. She was afraid of what she'd see if she looked him straight in the eye, this stranger standing in her former beloved's skin.

At least Danny was a known, and more than that was a solid constant. He had been so good, so reliable. He would be a wonderful father. She looked at him, full in the face, and knew that this, at least, was good, that Danny was a good man who she loved and who she knew without a shadow of a doubt loved her and would cherish and keep her, regardless. That was enough to base a marriage on -- more than enough. Everything would be ok.

She had to believe that, to make it through.

The ceremony was fine. They stood on a hillside overlooking a bay ( _not_ Pearl Harbor), and while Rafe was awfully quiet, Sandra tried very hard to be jovial and the minister was earnest. When he told Danny "You may kiss the bride," Evelyn smiled through tears she hadn't even realized were in her eyes as Danny wrapped her in his arms and bent to press his lips to hers.

\---

His baby picture was on the radio cabinet in the living room. Jake liked it better than the wedding photo. He didn't remember being that little and didn't really think it looked anything like him, but it was a good picture anyway. His momma was holding him in her lap and looking down at him. Her hair fell across her face a little and she looked tired and happy. She was sitting in a rocking chair that he remembered from when they lived in the city, which he knew mostly because when he was littler and they still lived there he would crawl into her lap when she got home from work and she would rock him and sing him songs in her lovely, sweet voice. She always looked tired back then, but then again everybody looked tired. He guessed it was just that war made everybody tired.

"Jake," Uncle Rafe called, "come on in here and wash up before dinner."

Jake sighed but got up from the couch obediently. Momma had made meatloaf and he was starting to get a little hungry, even if he didn't want to admit it. At least Uncle Rafe always made washing up fun.

\---  
July 1942

As the summer loomed, Danny started to get nervous. It had begun to look like they would be shipping out to England before Evelyn had the baby; Rafe and he had been transferred together to be the core of a new squadron as the war effort geared up and the Army Air Corps frantically reorganized to prepare, mixing the few experienced service pilots there already were with new recruits to form the units they'd be deploying overseas. In the spring, after reinforcements had finally made it to Hawaii, they had transferred from Pearl Harbor to Bolling Field for training. Evelyn had followed them, since she wasn't in the Navy anymore.

They cut it close, but ultimately she went into labor before their orders were finalized. Rafe found him pacing in the smoking lounge, sucking down cigarette after cigarette.

"Welp, things must be going ok in there if you're out here," Rafe observed dryly from just inside the door.

Danny looked up, smiling nervously. "They knocked Evelyn out. The doctor said it would be a while and they'd come get me when it was time."

"Ah." Rafe sat down. Danny dropped into the chair next to him. They just sat there, quiet, for a while, Danny nervously jiggling one leg.

Finally, Rafe couldn't stand it any more. "Alright, will you quit it with that? You're making me nervous, and it ain't even my wife in there."

Danny looked at his leg and flushed, stopping abruptly. "Sorry," he mumbled. There was another pause.

"You know neither of us--" Danny started, not looking at Rafe.

Rafe snorted. "I know. None of this is how anybody'd've chosen. I get it."

Danny looked up at him then, but Rafe was looking at his hands.

"I don't deny that I wish things had gone different," Rafe started, low and a little gruff.

"Rafe..." Danny started again.

Rafe shook his head, still looking down. "No, I need to say this."

Danny dropped his gaze in surrender.

"Y'all are good together. I don't deny that I wish things had gone different than they did, but they didn't and this is how it is. And if she's gotta be with anybody else, I'm glad it's you. You're a good man, Danny Walker, and you're gonna be a good father." Danny looked up at Rafe, startled, but Rafe wasn't done. "And when that doctor comes to tell you your wife's given birth, you're gonna go in there and you are gonna see that baby, and then you are gonna come back out here and we are gonna smoke these here cigars." Rafe produced a pair of cigars from his shirt pocket. "Alright?"

Danny waited for Rafe to finally look up and meet his eyes and then slowly nodded. "Alright, Rafe."

When the doctor came and called Danny, they were sitting in silence. Danny looked around at his name, startled, and Rafe gripped his shoulder for a long moment before pushing him forward just a little.

"Go on." Rafe smiled, very nearly a real smile. "Go meet your son."

\---

There was a picture on Momma's dresser of Daddy and Uncle Rafe standing in front of a plane. They're leaning back against the wing, grinning at the camera. Daddy's face is all crinkled up like he's laughing, and Uncle Rafe has that lop-sided smile he gets when he thinks something is real funny. They look happy, like they're having fun. Jake likes to imagine what they might've been laughing at. The picture makes him happy. He thinks it must make Momma happy too, since she keeps it right next to her side of her and Daddy's big bed where she'll see it every day. He loves that bed, too. It's big enough to lie down sideways in. Even with Momma and Daddy in it, there's plenty of room for him and Ruthie to pile in too.

\---

April 1944

Their luck had held throughout the North Africa campaign, even as their squadron suffered casualty after casualty. When it finally broke, it wasn't in the air.

They had recently moved from Tunisia north into Italy. Danny had been up half the night with the mechanic, replacing his plane's aftercoolant pump. He was stumbling back to his tent with every intention of dropping onto his bunk to catch as much sleep as possible before dawn when the distinctive screaming siren of a Stuka split the night.

He swore creatively and emphatically as he turned to sprint back towards the flight line, looking up and around for where the planes were. As the racket of the Stukas was joined by the rise-and-fall wail of an air raid siren, men began boiling out of the tents behind him. A strafing Stuka came straight down the flight line toward him. Danny lined himself right up between its lines of fire, put his head down, and kept going. Long experience had taught him that as long as he stayed between their guns, he'd be fine.

Later he won't be able to tell if he saw it, the plane or the incoming bomb, but a few yards shy of his plane he hit the deck. There was a very loud sound, and then something hit his head and he blacked out.

The next thing Danny was really aware of, everything was very quiet. He tried to lift his head and get his arms under himself to push off the surface he was lying on. Something touched his shoulder and he swallowed a scream as it sent fire racing across his back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," drawled a calm voice.

Danny collapsed back onto the cot. "What happened?"

"Someone dropped a bomb right bout on your head." The hand moved up to his head and gently turned it towards the light. "Lucky you're smart enough to duck."

"Oh." Danny wasn't quite sure what to do with that. "Uh. That's good, I guess?"

"Given the worst you've got is a nice old bump on your head and some shrapnel, I'll say it's good. Open your eyes."

Danny opened them obediently and immediately slammed them back shut again. "Ow."

"I'll bet. Open them anyway. I need to see your pupils."

Danny opened them more cautiously and held them open, even though the light burned and swam.

"Good. Your pupils are just fine. Now follow my finger." The doctor, who looked about 20 and had a startling shock of reddish hair, held up a finger and moved it back and forth and up and down across Danny's field of vision. "Good enough."

"So I'm ok then?" Danny was starting to feel alarmed through the heavy fog over his brain.

"Well, you'll be a royal bitch to pick pieces of metal out of, but otherwise you're fine. Don't sit up, your whole back is chewed up."

"Oh." Danny, who had been trying to do just that, sunk back down. "My eyes won't focus right, is that bad?"

"Probably just the morphine. You've got a visitor who's been waiting to see you. You stay down and I'll let him in here, alright?"

Danny nodded and the doctor headed off. Danny kept blinking, trying to make the tent focus properly. It wasn't working.

Rafe came in and sat down beside him. "Hey there, Danny."

"Hey, Rafe."

"They're gonna send you back to England, you know." Rafe looked rough and had a smear of blood across his cheek. Danny hoped it wasn't Rafe's.

"They are?" Danny blinked.

"Too much risk of infection out here, or something." Rafe sighed.

"Oh." They sat there in silence for a minute, Danny not thinking so much as floating, Rafe stewing. Finally, Danny cleared his throat. "If I die, you marry Evelyn, you hear?"

"What?" Rafe looked blank. "Danny, you aren't gonna die. Don't be ridiculous."

Danny glared at Rafe. "Not today I ain't, but if I do die, you'll marry her, right?"

"Danny..." Rafe frowned.

"Come on, Rafe."

"Fine, Danny. If you die, I'll marry your widow," Rafe says, frustrated. "I'm not gonna leave your family uncared for."

"No, I mean..." Danny paused, frustrated with words. "Don't marry her to take care of her. Marry her 'cause you're good together."

"Danny..." Rafe said again.

"Rafe, just tell me you will, ok?" Danny persisted, words slurring slightly.

"I said I'd marry her."

"Good. Thank you." Danny smiled a little, like he won.

"What am I going to do with you, Danny?"

"I don't know, Rafe," Danny slurred, starting to slide back into sleep. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

\---

The photo Jake loved best was probably the one from after they first moved to Tennessee. Daddy had been home only a few weeks and it was still strange to have him around. As a bigger kid now he could look back now and say he'd been scared of this man he couldn't remember and didn't know except for photos and letters and Momma's stories. What if Daddy was mean? What if he didn't like Jake? What if him coming home took Momma away from Jake?

But Daddy had been nice, had let Jake play with his wings and told him stories about flying, and besides he made Momma smile. She had cried when he first came home, hugged him like she wasn't ever gonna let go, but when they finally parted Jake could see Daddy was crying too, which made it ok.

Momma quit working at the hospital and Momma and Daddy explained that they were gonna move back to Tennessee, where Daddy was from, because Daddy's best friend had been hurt and needed help, and so they packed up everything into a brand new truck and left Washington. When they got there, Uncle Rafe was in rough shape, banged up and grumpy, but once he got over his surprise to see them he turned out not to be so bad.

He was so glad his daddy and his uncle Rafe had turned out not to be scary at all. That was why this was his favorite photo: Momma standing between Daddy and Uncle Rafe with her hands on Jake's shoulders and Daddy's arm wrapped around her waist. Everybody happy, everybody together.

\---

September 1945

It was not a pleasant trip from New York to Tennessee by train. Rafe's crutches got in the way constantly, though of course with him in uniform and obviously injured everyone was very polite. By the time he navigated off the train and into a cab, he was tired and beyond irritable and very glad to reach the dark house.

He got himself and his bags inside and the lights on and made it all the way to the couch before running right out of steam. He'd eaten on the train, at least, but now he realized that there wouldn't be much food in the house. No one had lived here in years. And the idea of climbing those stairs to get to bed was daunting.

He did not collapse onto the couch, but he may have sat down somewhat heavily and let the crutches fall to the floor beside him. He let his head tip back onto the cushion and stared at the ceiling morosely for an indeterminate period of time.

Some time later, he woke up. He was stiff and groggy, but he was slumped mostly stretched out on the couch and a blanket had been pulled over him. He struggled to sit up, confused.

"I wondered how long you'd sleep," said an amused voice.

"Danny?" Rafe blinked, looking around. Sure enough, Danny was sitting in a rocking chair across from the couch. "What are you doing here?"

"Well," drawled Danny. "Seemed to Evelyn and me that you'd be needing some help, seeing as you got yourself pretty banged up. Unless you were planning to walk to the store to get food, seeing as how I don't see how you can drive right now."

Rafe sputtered. "Wait, is Evelyn here too?"

"Well, I sure wasn't going to leave her in Washington, now that I'm finally home." Danny made a face, like Rafe was being ridiculous. Rafe didn't see how he was the ridiculous one in this situation.

"What...?" Rafe shook his head, waiting for this to start making sense.

"Besides, she's the one with the medical training. I don't know the first thing about getting you healed back up, other then that you need to stay off your feet." That last was pointed, as Rafe was reaching for his crutches, clearly doing no such thing. Danny leaned over and handed them to him.

"Danny?" And that was Evelyn's voice, from the kitchen. "Is he awake?"

"Yeah, Ev," Danny called back. "He's up."

Rafe struggled to get to his feet faster. It wasn't fully rational and he knew it, but he didn't want to look like a cripple the first time she saw him in years.

"Oh, good." And there was Evelyn coming through the door, wiping her hands off on the apron around her waist, every inch as beautiful as he remembered. "Hello, Rafe."

"Hi, Evelyn." They stopped for a moment, facing each other. He struggled to find something to say. "You look well."

"Oh, Rafe." She smiled suddenly, warm and bright, and hugged him. "Welcome home."

He froze, looked at Danny, but Danny was smiling fondly, wide-open and unconcerned, and Rafe was just so tired. He let himself bury his face in her sweet-smelling hair and just held on.

**Author's Note:**

> When I set out to write this, I thought it would be a fix-it for the movie, and about all three characters getting together. It wasn't until I had actually finished that I realized it was a fix-it for the movie and for where we left Rafe, and that Danny and Evelyn are doing just fine.
> 
> I might need to write more in this verse, as Evelyn got a lot less screen time than I'd intended and I adore her lots.
> 
> Title from the song Beyond the Sea, originally by Charles Trenet.


End file.
